


Bright Shirts

by Iktsuarpok



Series: Bright Shirts [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Eldrich Abomination, Gore, Inhuman, M/M, Mpreg, NSFW, Possessive Behavior, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Tentacles, that Steve can't even take care of a tan Corolla!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:23:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iktsuarpok/pseuds/Iktsuarpok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos’s fellow scientists find more humor in Cecil’s affectionate advances than Carlos does. Convinced that Cecil isn't going to stop his overbearing behavior, he seeks help from his good friend Steve Carlsberg to escape Night Vale. However, neither Cecil nor Night Vale are inclined to let them go so easily...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Cecil Oversteps Boundaries, and Steve Carlsberg Worries

**Author's Note:**

> Written by myself and a friend across the country from me in an RP format.  
> Enjoy!

Carlos looked around the small coffee shop nervously, playing solitaire on his phone as he tried to pass the time. Whatever time was.  
He wasn't keen on meeting with this Percil person, not in the least, but he had to get the word out. He’d dealt with crushes before in high school, all of which were met with stammering apologies and speedy exits, and he doubted the radio host would be any different than his previous admirers. They would get their drinks, speak on professional terms, and move along with their intentionally separated lives. No harm done.  
He turned his wrist over to glance at the beloved watch, eyeing the second hand as it lazily moved across the face. Ten till seven. The sooner they could get out of here, the better. He didn't want to be late for work again, not after Steve had covered so many shifts for him.  
 _Ding!_  
The scientist looked up from his suspiciously flavored coffee to the door, sinking even further into the cushioned chair. He’d never seen the blonde before, but he recognized the expression.

The expression in question was one of absolute and utter dreamyness, as though the wearer had a spell over them.  
Cecil Palmer sidled around to the seat across from the handsome scientist, not noticing the worried expression that had stretched across his tan, firm features. Personally, Cecil had decided to wear his second best set of clothes, a flannel tunic with reptile green jeans, complete with some of the scales hanging on still. He would save his weapon of choice, furry pants and a plain tunic, for later, once they started dating. Unless this was a date…  
“Carlos?” The blond man smiled as he sat down, gazing into the scientist’s caramel eyes. “You’re even more beautiful the second time around! Well, I mean, I’ve seen you twice, and you’re still so… so _perfect_ …” The words just slid out of him to languish like an over pleased cat in the air between them.

"Yeah, uh," Carlos quickly looked back to his coffee, drinking it despite its BBQ flavor. "That's me. Hi. Carlos Ramirez, GreenHill Research." His hand moved from his lap to the table as if to shake the radio host's hand, but he decided against it and left it to rest on the table instead. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind me recording this conversation. For scientific purposes, of course."

The radio host nodded, resting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands as he gazed intently at the other before slowly extending a hand. With all the precision of a surgeon, he wiped a tiny smudge of coffee from the other man’s stubble, holding his breath as he worked. He leaned back, smiling. “There we go. Now then, what sort of science? I… I could help, or you could come in for an interview…”

Well, this man was far more forward than any admirers from the past. Still, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He always felt safer on the other side of a table, the protective surface guarding him. "Interviews, no. You flatter me, I'm no good with audiences." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small recorder, placing it on the table between them, and punched a red button. He leaned in toward it as he talked, eyes strictly on the device. "This is Carlos Ramirez, GreenHill Research, with... with Percil Palmer. Sixteenth of June, 2012, Night Vale Eastern side. Now, Mr. Palmer, could you tell me any irregularities you've noticed with Night Vale's dating system?"

“Cecil. Cecil Palmer.” He said softly, still gazing at Carlos, hand occasionally twitching as he considered stroking that soft hair, just once to see what it felt like. But… dating system?  
“Well, I don’t know about you, but most people operate on the three date rule. On the third date, you… you know. But honestly?” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper as he slid his leg over to brush against Carlos’s delicate yet masculine ankle. They were ankles to be proud of, certainly. “If you wanted, we could do whatever you wanted. I mean, as long as it’s within government sanctions. That means nothing involving ostridges, which turns out to come into effect more often than you’d think.”

Carlos jumped at the surprising contact, his knee ramming painfully against the table and his body throwing itself away from the advancing blonde. "Ay- no! No, no no no, not--" Ostridges? "--not that. I mean... no." He buried his hands into his pockets and looked around the coffee shop, getting winks from at least two men as he did so. Gods above. "What I _meant_ , Mr. Palmer, was dating in the sense of _time_. Clocks. Calendars. Any irregularities you've noticed with _time_."

“Well, time is a funny thing, you know? And it isn't on the list of Approved Comedy sent out by the City Council.” He laughed for a moment before he became serious again, voice flat and low. “All joking aside, what’s wrong with our time? It’s the good quality stuff, and I don’t think you should really be asking around about something like that.”

"That's what we scientists do," Carlos said, rubbing at his knee and frowning. At least the man had dropped his romantic charade. "...we break boundaries." He put the lid back on his cup and pushed it aside, the distaste unmistakable. They'd gotten off topic. A terrible waste of time. "You haven't noticed how time seems to be slowing down? Right now, even. It's slowing down. That's unusual, isn't it? It's not just another Night Vale thing, right?"

Cecil just tilted his head, confusion written in every inch of his features. “Oh, dear, Carlos… You haven't gone in for citizen orientation, have you? I bet it’s Steve’s fault. I told them not to let him be in charge of welcoming you to our glorious town, but no!” He shook his head in a pitying gesture. “I bet he even gave you some of his horrid cooking as well. Did he bring you to meet his ‘friends’? Well, we can talk about that later. I could bring you in for the Secret Police seminar on proper citizenship later in the afternoon if you’d like. We could go out to dinner and everything.”

Carlos blinked in confusion, but the harsh words toward his friend were overshadowed by said orientation. The more the other man spoke, the less inclined Carlos was to fulfill any sort of citizenship at all. "No, no dinner is necessary. Please, Cecil, let's try to keep our focus, yes? Professional to professional. I'm asking if you've noticed the days getting longer, the sun rising before the break of day, things like that." He moved to his wristwatch, taking off the heirloom and sliding it across the table. He felt naked without it, but he needed an outside data point. "This watch in synced with Pacific Coast Time, America. Perfectly timed, and perfectly functioning. But it doesn't match Night Vale."

The radio host just nodded again, looking more confused than before. “And that’s bad… why? It’s a clock, it just needs to tell time, not show you where you live. But I know the days are hot, dry, and bright, but long? I guess you could say that they’re long.” He sighed blissfully. “I didn't know you were so poetic! ‘the days getting longer...’ Are you a writer as well as a scientist?”

"I'm... no." Carlos shook his head. He wasn't getting anywhere with this man. Well, nowhere he has any desire to go. He flicked off the recorder and stuffed it into his pocket, huffing in frustration. "Far from it. Thank you for your time, Mr. Palmer," he said, standing up and picking up his coffee. "Keep the watch for now. The sun should come up at 5:35 every morning, let me know if there's any deviation from this schedule. And get the word out on your radio show, if you would. Goodnight." He started to walk out, throwing the cup into the trash bin as he went.

Thanks for his time? "Neat. Goodnight, Carlos. I'll be sure to call you as soon as I can!"  
Cecil ran up after him to walk with him to the parking lot, holding the watch in his hand like a baby bird.

Carlos ran and closed his car before Cecil could catch him, locking the doors and pulling out nearly immediately. He felt terrible for being so rude and exclusive. He'd been 'that kid' more times than he could count. But he needed to get to work. Besides, he would run out of excuses not to go out with the stranger eventually. He'd get the watch back when Cecil was in an impossible situation, one that wouldn't allow him to longer. Running late for a meeting, perhaps. Something like that.  
The scientist continued his scheming as he drove his sporty yet economically sound car to the lab.

\--------

"Hey," he said, walking into the laboratory beside the Big Rico's and putting his goggles around his neck. He slid the recorder over to his friend, shaking his head. "Interview’s taken care of. Useless, but taken care of."

Steve looked up from his piles of paperwork, his calculator sitting next to him as he ran over the figure’s from the latest experiment. “Sorry if it didn't go well. Did he at least pay for coffee? No?” The soft spoken man scratched at his back lightly as he returned to his work, typing and marking down the measurements for a new graph.  
Graphs. Now _there_ was something nice and reliable. One could never go wrong with math, really. A seven was a seven was a seven… Numbers couldn't be changed about by a sly word, or be coerced by the strangeness of this town to mean something other than what they were. Numbers were honest. “Did he tell you what he was going to present on air? This might be a nice promotion for the company, if he does it right.”

“No promises he’ll do what we’re asking,” Carlos said, leaning over and looking at Steve’s charts with a small nod. He was nothing but a professional at the lab, void of all emotional contact. Sure, he could friendly if it was necessary, but when he was at work it took up his entire focus. As it should. At least Steve was a reliable coworker. “Those look good. Yeah, I told him to make the announcement. I’m sure he’ll say _something_.” He walked over to his ‘In’ dropbox, pulling out yet another set of results from one of the interns. “Dios mio, singing grass…” Carlos looked up to the radio that loomed in the upper corner of the room, quietly playing music away to itself. He was starting to understand why Steve had cautioned him against listening to the community radio station.

"You should have heard them before. They were singing parts of West Side Story." Steve didn't look up from his charts as he spoke, taking another sip of coffee before he turned back to Carlos. "Do you want to listen to the show, or would you rather just wait and see what everyone else says? I mean, it's up to you, and we'll hear about it anyway in the break room..." Ah, the break room. Where the souls of the uncommon man came to die. Steve had often been the subject of many sniggers and pranks, someone once actually taking the time to put all of his belongings in jello. But now Carlos was the one who was beginning to get intriguing comments as the popular radio host spoke more and more about him. It had only been light teasing so far, nothing terrible. Carlos was just so handsome, and likable...

"I'd rather not," Carlos said with a tiny frown. "Not worth my time. We have a lot of work to do." He bent down and reached into one of the desk drawers, pulling out a tub of gelatinous grey substance, decorated with curly black hairs. "We have to figure out what element this is," he said shortly, looking to Steve for permission before removing the paperwork in front of him and setting it aside. "Want to help?"

Smiling softly, Steve put away his calculator, storing in in it's usual home in his desk, retrieving some gloves and forceps as he glanced curiously over at the... the... whatever it was.  
"This is really something. Is this another of the clock creatures? Well, I don't know if I'd call it a creature, but still." He set up the usual camera, switching it to video as he fiddled with the settings. "Have you tried setting that electric current through it yet? You sounded so excited about that at lunch yesterday."

"It doesn't _seem_ conductive," Carlos said, carefully pulling out several wires and chargers and setting them on the table. He put on a pair of gloves of his own and gave a rare smile, scooping out a small amount of the gelatinous substance. It almost looked like mesoglea, only hairy. He put one wire one one end of the lump and another on the other, holding his breath as he switched the machine on with a tiny _click_.

The thing on the petri dish jiggled, as if poked by an invisible finger. Giving Carlos a small smile of his own, Steve clicked the camera off, making a few notes on his laptop's spreadsheet. "A little anticlimactic, no?" He gently reached out a gloved hand to tickle the thing's hairs. "Maybe the hairs act like antenna of a sort..."

"I don't know what to think anymore," Carlos said, grabbing one of the many empty watches he'd accumulated over his time in Night Vale and and taking a drop of the grey glob into his hands. The screws and gears in the clock were bent, rusted, and worn, but the moment he put the gel in it began to tick away. "Nothing makes sense here. I don't know how you've managed this long." It was an aside, an off-comment, and he walked across the laboratory to get a microscope. Coworkers whispered as he went by, all of whom he ignored. This was science. Not social hour.

Well, Steve had survived almost exclusively from a strict regime of immersive video games, a white picket fence, and desperately ignoring any indication of abnormality. It was a little like using cotton balls to sop up a tsunami, but at least he was trying to not completely and utterly insane. The day he started huddling in the back lot with the other citizens, or denying the existence of mountains, would be a very cold day in hell indeed. It would be... oh gods, hopefully he would stay nice and _normal_ in his carefully manicured house and his stamp collecting Sundays... "Well, Carlos, I think it's all about attitude."

“Hah, you’re optimistic.” Carlos walked over with the heavy machine in his hand, huffing slightly. The whole lab seemed to be at least twenty years outdated, and it proved to be a larger obstacle than he’d initially anticipated. He plugged in the microscope and selected a smaller sample, placing it beneath the lens and lifting up his chunky glasses to observe it for the eighth time that week. “It just doesn’t make sense,” he muttered, sitting back and rubbing at his eyes. “Hair excluded, it’s not made up of anything. No elements, no sediments, no liquids, no nothing. It’s just _itself_.” If there was one thing that stressed Carlos out, it was not understanding something.

"It's very frustrating, huh?" He sighed, typing up the information and throwing out his gloves. "Believe me, I really miss life outside if here. But the weirdness kind of... takes you over, becomes a part of you almost." He sighed, shaking his head with a smile. "Sorry, I'm just a touch tired. I was doing a little late night baking, and I-"

"Yo, Carlos! You're on the radio!" One of the engineers plucked down a large, older fashioned radio and cranked up the volume if the smooth voice coming out of it. "...and when I say 'romantic tension', I mean _romantic tension_ that you could cut with a knife, or at least a ceremonial bloodstone dagger. Those can cut through _anything_. But I digress, Dear Listeners. Carlos... sweet, sensual Carlos... asked me about Night Vale's dating system!"

Carlos felt his face heating up, striding over to the small radio and punching the ‘Off’ button. “That’s enough of that, Henry,” he said to the engineer, handing him the device and motioning for him to stand up. Sometimes it was nice being second in command. He could make people respect him, and the dash of fear involved was more than a little helpful. “Have you finished your seismograph charts, Mr. Bently?”  
“I- no, but-”  
“Get to it.” He turned around and pretended to be busy with a clipboard, smirking in silent satisfaction as the door to the break room shut closed and the broadcast was put back on. They could hoot and mock him all they wanted, so long as it wasn’t in his presence. At the end of the day, he had the final say. The control he needed over his life. He had no trouble hiding his sensitive layers. Not anymore.  
“Sorry, Steve, what was that?”

Steve shook his head, the corners of his lips turned up in an almost nonexistent smile. "Oh, nothing vital."  
Oh, Carlos. That man seemed like he could take on anything. And while Steve wasn't one to judge someone on their looks, he couldn't help but admit that the other man was quite handsome. Still, he shook the thoughts from his head and moved on. His life was a perpetual dream, a dream of leaving Night Vale, this drawbridge in the desert, where pens were banned and mountain believers were scorned. Leaving would never happen, not ever, but he could at least carry that small dream.

The day passed by normally, as normal as Night Vale would allow. Steve and Carlos worked together in their unofficial partnership, Carlos doing most of the work but Steve giving him little reminders to 'turn this up a degree' or 'don't forget to point this down, friend.' Carlos truly was a scientific genius, but he tended to forget the little details. That’s where his coworker came in. That, and Steve was the only other scientist who didn’t laugh at him over the whole ‘Cecil craze.’ While he didn’t understand why or acknowledge the comfort that brought, he did appreciate it. The snickers behind his back were eating away at him, slowly eroding at his shield.  
“Do we know if it’s acidic?” Carlos said, chewing on a cracker rather noisily as he bent over a stained report. “Or basic?”

Steve munched on his own sandwich, reaching over with his pen to circle the pH test results on the report. He had heard the snickers as well, the talk at the water fountain and in the molecular scanning ray's holding room. Small towns were normally raging pits of gossip, with people like Cecil trembling with anticipation to find something new to blab about, but Carlos was a special case after all the attention from Night Vale's main news source. "Well, I really think that we should do the tests one more time, considering that there were some tarantulas in the pH solution and-"  
He was interrupted by some giggling from across the room from one of the interns. Stomach dropping, Steve held up a hand for Carlos to be quiet, creeping up behind the young interns. They were /supposed/ to be working, and Steve was their supervisor. He had told them plenty of times for them to keep working, and now-  
He caught a look at the screen, the girls laughing harder as he blushed. Cecil’s blog… Oh, this was worse than he’d thought...

Carlos looked up from the apparent acidic results, frowning at Steve's pale complexion. He looked so sickly all the time, being a nervous sort of fellow, but he'd never been the target of such expression. He walked over to where the girls were giggling, gently pushing Steve aside. "Now ladies, let's not--"  
The girls only laughed harder, falling back into their chairs and clapping their hands as they gasped for breath. Carlos frowned and leaned forward, turning the laptop towards himself and scrolling back to the top.

[...never thought he'd be so _forward_. I brushed my hand against his cheek, just once, and his beautiful stubble made the most beautiful sound. It scratched against my fragile skin and sent the most delicious sensations throughout my body. You can’t even imagine how erotic the situation was, dear readers...]

Carlos skimmed the page, looking to Steve then back to the laptop. He slammed it closed, unusually red in the face. "Get to work," he said darkly, a child in him deeply disturbed by the seemingly harmless fondness. He walked back over to his desk, silently shoving things back into his satchel as he pushed the memories away.  
He wasn't going to be the target of another obsession. Not after last time.

Biting his lip, Steve hurried after the other man, his lab coat swirling around him as he caught onto the other man’s sleeve. “Carlos, don’t worry, it’ll be over soon enough. Cecil gets attached to people rather quickly, but he’ll find someone else soon enough. Hell, he’s got the attention span of a hamster.” He gave a weak laugh, regretting it immediately and simply clearing his throat as he tried to steer the handsome man back towards their shared desk. It was odd to touch him, to press his own slender fingers against that pure white fabric that formed the one-size-fits-all lab coat that managed to make him look even handsomer than if the cheap coat had been tailored exactly to his every curve.

"Eight months," Carlos said, gently pulling himself out of Steve's grasp and continuing to pack. He could feel eyes peering at him, the tingling sensation on the back of his neck he once prided himself on being immune to. But the near-erotica post on Cecil's blog was the last straw. "I've been telling myself that for eight months, but it hasn't changed. I thought I could ignore it if I just shut it out, but he..." Carlos closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The scientist smiled at Steve, expression clearly a facade. "You've been a wonderful partner, Steve. I'd like to call you a friend. I wish you all the best with your future experiments, but I'm going back to California." He pulled out his keys from his pocket, taking off his goggles.

Oh dear…  
“I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news, but I really wouldn’t try that if I were you.” It wasn’t easy to leave Night Vale after even a few days, let alone a few months, but oh gods, eight months? He couldn’t leave like that, the city wasn’t going to let him. He glanced about, eyes landing on their reports. “Carlos, we’re so close to finishing our paper on what the clocks actually are! You’ve really become the center for science in this town, it’ll all just fall apart once you leave.” He looked up at him with pleading eyes. “It’s not easy to leave. Just stay here, and we’ll just try and get Cecil to leave you alone. He’ll only be interested for another month or so, tops.”

Carlos gave Steve a sad smile, shrugging off his lab coat. "You're very kind to think of me," he said, "but it won't be that hard. I have a sister I can stay with, and lots of connections on the west coast." Poor man. He really didn't have any friends, as far as Carlos was aware, but he simply couldn't stay. Steve would just have to fend for himself. Perhaps there was a way to cheer him up, make the separation easier.  
"Say, you've been overdue to make a discovery of your own. You're right, we've nearly nailed it, and I'm sure you'd have no trouble finishing the conclusion on your own. This can be your big break." He slapped Steve on the back, rather hard, as a friendly gesture. Poor thing needed some confidence. "The department would be thrilled. You could finally get that promotion you've been on about."  
Carlos moved toward the door, frowning and turning around just in front of it. "Could I ask one more favor, perhaps?"

Trying to hold back a gasp as he tried to subtly squirm out of the way of the playful blow, to no effect, Steve nodded pitifully. “I’m not really doing anything tonight, so… yeah. I’m up for it. But really, Carlos, it’s very difficult to leave Night Vale. Theres a good reason so many people stay here once they’ve stayed for a few weeks, and I’m worried about you!” Oh, he had reached out to any number of outsiders, having this exact conversation and trying to warn them, to keep them safe from the dangers that haunted this god forsaken place. But Carlos’s greatest strength was his weakness in this situation. He was Carlos, man of science, and he needed proof to really grasp what was going on. It needed to be concrete, and Steve had nothing like that. “Trust me?”

"I trust you have the best intentions," Carlos said, walking forward and shaking Steve's hand. "But I really need you to talk to Cecil for me. If you can. I gave him my abuelo's wristwatch for the sake of the experiment, and I'd like to retrieve it with as little conversation as possible. Just... tell him I'm going to New York. Make something up. I don't want him following me out or trying to convince me otherwise when I stop by the station later." Steve and Cecil didn't have the best relationship, from what Carlos could tell, but he couldn't just leave a family heirloom behind because he was too afraid of an extensive crush.

Steve opened his mouth to offer another quiet argument, but then nodded defeatedly. “I’ll tell him to meet me for coffee, not to worry. I’ll… I’ll get your watch back.” He would try and get the watch back as well as he could, but it most likely wouldn’t happen. Cecil was his ex, and they had dated for a few months before… before some friends of his got in the way. “I’ll do my best. Don't you worry, friend.”


	2. In Which the Situation Worsens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non con warning comes in for this chapter.

_Steve Carlsberg, not even the Glow Cloud could help you if you continue to text me. I told you, I'm NOT interested. -CP_

_Just for coffee, Cecil. Just one coffee. It's important. -SC_

_Why? What could POSSIBLY be so important? -CP_

_It'd take too long to type out. My phone is starting to ooze. -SC_

_It's in your best interest. Not mine. -SC_

_I'll come, but not because I want to. It's purely for journalistic reasons. -CP_

Steve wiped the bubbling green liquid off his phone and waited, keeping an eye on the door. He took a bite of his muffin and tapped his foot. The watch was clearly important to his fellow scientist, and Steve was willing to face his ex for his handsome Latino coworker.

Cecil stalked in a while later, his eyes narrowing with irritation when he set eyes on Steve. "Well if it isn't Steve Carlsberg, out to ruin the day..." He slouched over, sitting down in the chair across from him with a huff of anger.

Steve hummed with minor annoyance as a splash of coffee fell to his lab coat, startled by Cecil’s arrival. He grabbed a nearby napkin and tried to wipe it away, the stain long settled. "Cecil. I know it's been a while since we've... spoken." He swallowed. "But I don't want to see you get hurt." He looked down, trying to hide his face and the lie clearly written across it. Carlos. Do it for Carlos. 

"The only thing that's hurting me is having to be anywhere near you, Steve Carlsberg." He leaned back, crossing his arms and staring daggers at him.

He shook his head. He was always uncomfortable with even the smallest of fibs, but this was for his friend. He'd push through. "Has Carlos talked to you about his watch recently? The one he lent to you?"

His eyebrows creased, his hand delving into his pocket to hide the small piece. "No..." Steve would try to retrieve Carlos's symbol of love. Spoilsport.

Steve only sighed. "He asked me to tell you to that he needs it back. He’s leaving Night Vale, Cecil. He think’s he’s got a way to leave."

Cecil paused, hurt flashing briefly in his eyes. "...What? Why? Why would the sweet, perfect Carlos leave me? We've even gone as far as brushing ankles! _That_ is _commitment_!" Not that he'd have to worry. But why would he _want_ to depart, after their magical morning together?

Steve shrank back in his chair. Cecil making emotional attachments with no reciprocation from the other party was nothing new to him, but yelling was. "I just thought you should know."

He leaned back, rubbing his forehead with his long fingers. "But... why would he leave? Why on earth would he want to go away from me and our lovely town?"

 _Because you ruined everything_ , Steve thought. His one co-worker and lone friend was determined to get out, and it was all Cecil's doing. He didn't allow himself to feel the anger he probably should have been subject to, focusing instead on the task at hand. "There wasn't enough funding for all the scientists they sent in. Carlos volunteered to go back to New York." A lie, but maybe it would go down easier than the truth. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you... are you ok?"

"He _volunteered_?! After all we've been through? There must be a mistake." He whipped out his phone and began texting furiously.

"Whoa whoa whoa, you have his number? How?" Steve’s heart sank. Oh, this was going to be much more difficult than he thought.

_Carlos? Are you leaving Night Vale? Because Steve Carlsberg said you are. -CP_

_Who is this? -CR_

"I took his phone and texted his number to me," Cecil murmured.

Steve only shook his head. It was just like Cecil to overstep personal boundaries. "Look, I'm sorry, I just thought you should know. Look, I just came to ask for--"

"Shut up, Carlsberg."

_This is Cecil, who cares about you immensely. Why would you ever want to leave Night Vale? -CP_

_We got coffee this morning, if that helps. -CP_

_Cecil Palmer? -CR_

_Yes, that's me! -CP_

Steve raised his hand in the universal sign of surrender and leaned back, watching intently. Cecil would figure it out eventually. He'd let the trauma pass before getting the watch back. Cecil would return the heirloom, right? If he knew it made Carlos happy? It was wishful thinking, sure, but it was a part of that “if you love a butterfly, set it free” philosophy.

_We had some financial issues. I have to go. Please delete this number, please. -CR_

_Delete this number? Don't you like talking to me? -CP_

_We've never talked. Not_ talked, _talked. -CR_

_Well, we are now. -CP_

_Isn't it wonderful? -CP_

_I have to go, my boyfriend is here. Thank you for your... service. -CR_

_Your WHAT?! -CP_

"Cecil?" Steve leaned forward, extending an arm against his better judgement. "You look... explosive."

Cecil felt his stomach sink and his heart fill with lead as he slapped Steve's hand away.

_You CAN'T have a boyfriend, Carlos. -CP_

_No, this isn't happening. -CP_

Steve rubbed his hand, several heads turning to stare at them as Cecil’s gasps grew louder. "Calm down, Cecil."

_Respond, Carlos. -CP_

_Oh gods, damn autocorrect. Sorry Cecil. -CR_

_girlfriend* How embarrassing. -CR_

Cecil bit back a sob of anger and frustration and heartbreak. "N-no... no, no, no..."

_THAT'S EVEN WORSE, CARLOS! -CP_

_What about US, huh? I thought we really had something! -CP_

_I don't know you. Please, we're packing, I can't talk. -CR_

_NO. I know where you live, Carlos. And I KNOW you're lying about this 'girlfriend' of yours. -CP_

_Wait, you what? -CR_

_You love ME, Carlos! Me, Cecil Palmer! -CP_

_This is getting inappropriate. I have to go. -CR_

_No! If you disconnect, I'll find you! It's me you love, not your imaginary 'girlfriend'! -CP_

Steve leaned over the countertop, handing Cecil a tissue. He always had them handy. "Do you.. uh... do you need this?"

Cecil gritted his teeth in frustration, snatching the tissue without a look at Steve, his eyes filling with angry tears. "He said... he had a girlfriend..."

_Carlos, respond. -CP_

_I'll just keep texting you. -CP_

“A girlfriend?” Steve asked, tilting his head. While Carlos was usually rather reserved about his personal life, he was relatively certain the scientist didn’t swing that way. He was temporarily crestfallen, before remembering how impossible even the smallest of his fantasies was. “I didn’t know he was… interested in women.”

"Me neither. That's why I'm going to his house to check." Cecil wiped at his eyes again, and stood up shakily from his seat.

_CARLOS. -CP_

Steve rose from his own seat, eyes widening. Oh, this wasn't good. This was very not good. “Y-you can’t do that, Cec! He really didn’t want to leave. We both know how hard it is to get out as it is, b-but...”

_Seriously, Carlos. You can't just NOT text me back. That's just rude. Pure and simple. -CP_

_I'm on my way. -CP_

Steve blocked Cecil's way, nervously trying to intimidate the radio host. Things were getting more out of chaotic than usual, and that was saying something. “Cecil, wait. He wants time with his… girlfriend. Let’s not do anything, anything drastic. Okay?”

“You know what I think this is about?” Cecil somehow managed to loom over the other man, even as he sat back down to glare darkly at the meek scientist. His breath was sharp with peppermint and his eyes carried small gems of hurt in them like porcelain hearts in a den of lions. The hurt was out of place, almost distorted, very much like Cecil himself under his unbending sense of style and charisma.”I think you’re just jealous that I’m capable of having a normal relationship, unlike _some_ people.”

Steve looked behind him, checking to make sure everything was in order before frowning at Cecil and crossing his arms over his chest. Any air of authority he had was gone the moment Cecil stooped so low as to press _that_ button. “This isn’t about m-me,” he said, swallowing hard and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Or us. Or… or them.” He turned around again, spinning in a circle and managing to look quite ridiculous despite the fear on his face. He wanted to be home, snuggled up in his personal blanket and watching a comedy to drag a smile or two into his paranoid life. “Carlos wants to go leave Night Vale, and… and we should support that. He’s my friend, and I want him to be happy. Don’t you?”

The blond man chuckled, shaking his head and reaching over to pat Steve’s hand in the most patronizing way he could. “Oh, Steve. This really is childish of you, you know. So I’m going to forget this ever happened as long as you don’t interfere with my Carlos and I ever again.” He sighed, gazing at Steve like a wise, wizened man looking down at a child.

Steve shoved his hand into his pocket, jumping from Cecil’s touch as though his sunscreen white skin was a pot of boiling water. “He’s not- he’s not your Carlos!” Steve said. He couldn’t go to the other’s house, especially when Steve could have prevented it. “He’s leaving, Cecil, and I don’t know how, but he’s smart! He’ll figure it out!” Well, Steve hoped so. If only he could leave with him. He’d give anything to escape from the shadows and secrets of Night Vale, but he’d involuntarily joined the madness long ago. “Who are we to try and get in his way? He’s got some, some _girlfriend_ waiting for him out there!” Several people in the coffee shop were staring at Steve as his timid voice rose, disgust written across their features at the sight of ‘the spoilsport.’

“Steve, did you just say you want to touch him?! He’s your lab partner, Steve, why would you talk about him like that?!” Cecil called out with a gasp of horror and an affronted look on his face. "You want to put it _where _?! That doesn't sound like something government approved at all, least of all the right thing for a man on the Night Vale PTA to do with a fine man like Carlos!" He was pleased to notice heads turning and whispering beginning to full the coffee shop at his loud words.__

__Steve took a step back, confused at Cecil’s sudden personality shift. “What? I never said...” Oh. _Oh_. He felt his face flushing, his body starting to itch with that uncomfortable, unrestrainable reflex. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, feeling the all too familiar multitude of eyes stabbing into his back. Still, he couldn’t quite bring himself to fight back. This wasn't about him, this was about Carlos. “Cecil, please,” he said, voice lowering in volume as he sat back down across from Cecil in a hopeless stab at normalcy. “I know what you’re doing, but let’s try to be civil about this. Man to man. Carlos--” _ _

__“Carlos is _not_ your concern, pal.” Cecil yanked Steve up and looped an arm over the his shoulders, grimacing at the touch, but still leading the other out of the coffee shop as subtly filled with force as he could. Pushing the doors open, he flashed a smile at the other customers as he guided Steve out to the parking lot. “You know, Steve, I think I know what your problem is. A lack of reality. When you realize that you and your little friends don’t have a chance with him…” He released the other, pushing him forcefully towards the other’s rusted car with a firm pat between his shoulder blades. “...then you’ll be a _much_ happier person. Leave the socializing and passionate nights with handsome scientists to me, and you can continue with your little conspiracy theories. It’s better this way.”_ _

__Steve yelped as he was pushed away, the pain in his back only causing more internal struggle. He reached into his pocket dejectedly and pulled out his keys, sighing. Cecil would never listen to him. What did it matter if Cecil thought he wanted to pursue any sort of relationship with the scientist? There was no use fighting the reality: Cecil would always look for flaws in Steve, and he’d always have plenty unlimited ammo. Steve didn’t belong in Night Vale, but ever since his arrival he didn’t fit in anywhere else. He was an easy target, and his only strength was his awareness of his own fragility.  
“Just give Carlos his watch back, okay?” Steve said, taking a brave step forward and standing up as straight as the pain in his back would allow. He held his hand out, more than a few people watching the exchange through the windows of the coffee shop. “I’ll give it to him at work tomorrow, no problem. You can ask him out or whatever another time.” That part, he didn’t have to worry about. He’d seen Carlos handle people in the laboratory. Even with the scientist’s strange reaction today, he could handle Cecil in a safe, public setting..  
If Carlos didn’t find a way out, that is. He prayed he would. 

__Cecil made a noise of sarcastic disappointment, shaking his head mockingly at the other man as he climbed into his own car. “Oh dear, Steve, I really worry about you. I am _not_ going to trust you with Carlos’s very special and important watch, not in your wildest dreams. What I _will_ entrust you with is a message.” He settled into his seat, buckling in before looking over at the other man with a grin. “Just tell him to meet me at the station tomorrow, after my show is over in the evening. We can have a little chat, maybe a glass of wine, something like that.” _ _

___A glass of…?_ Steve shook his head. Cecil would never get it through his impossibly thick skull that Carlos wasn’t interested.  
“I’ll be sure to tell him,” he said defeatedly, stepping back to allow the car room to move. Cecil’s determination scared him, one bad date leading to a lifetime of torment and isolation for Steve himself. If Carlos really couldn’t find a way out of Night Vale, he’d have to help the poor man with damage control. He wouldn’t let his friend end up like him, alone with his puzzles and lemon trees every Saturday night. He took his phone out of his pocket, playing along with Cecil’s charade with every intention to give Carlos fair warning of what he was about to face. Steve would have his back. “What time should he meet you?”_ _

__“Maybe… nine?” He smiled coldly, starting up the engine. Oh, he and his Carlos would _certainly_ be having a little chat, alright. It would be… interesting.  
Shaking his head like a man with far too many happy thoughts, he glanced over at Steve one last time. “And I would like to talk to him privately, Steve. I know how much you love to snoop about like the little untrusting, government hating rat that you are, but the adults need to have a little chat in private. A very romantic chat. Maybe more.” He rolled up the car window, waving farewell to Steve and starting to pull away in his car. _ _

___“Wait, _wait__! What’s do you mean, a romantic--!”  
But Cecil had already driven off, his car turning left in a right-turn-only lane without a blinker to boot. The man thought he was immune to everything, being the town’s local celebrity. Cecil was reckless, taking what he wanted when he wanted it and expecting zero collateral damage. It made Steve nauseous. While he didn’t know just what Cecil was planning, he was all too aware of the contributing factors: a meeting late at night, sketchy romantic intentions, mental instability, a vacant setting…  
He had to warn Carlos. They’d get the piece back, if that’s what Carlos really wanted, but they’d do so smartly. Steve was the first to admit he was a paranoid man, but his forced lifestyle had kept him safe.  
Cecil wasn’t going to hurt him. Steve wouldn’t allow it. 

__\--------_ _

____Knock knock knock.__  
"Cecil?" Carlos called out, fixing his lab coat from the discomfort of it all. After Steve’s endless warnings and laundry list of precautions, he felt more frightened than he probably had any right to. He'd told Cecil he was straight, sent him a red herring to get him off his trail. Still, it was odd that the radio host would call him in at such a late hour. He turned around and gave a nod to the tan carolla on the other side of the parking lot, rocking on his heels a little as he waited. “Cecil, it’s me. Carlos.”  
No matter how unsettling the matter was, he couldn't just leave his watch behind. Even if the rejection did result in his name being disgraced over the radio waves. It was a family heirloom. 

__Cecil flung the door open, grinning. Ah, there he was. "Carlos! Come right in!" He stepped aside, giving Carlos a moment to come in of his own accord before he just pulled him in._ _

__Carlos allowed himself to be pulled into the station, yelping slightly. "I- uh-" Suddenly, all words seemed to leave him. Just seeing the man in front of him, he could almost see how he typed up the blog, how he felt the ‘electricity coursing through his body...’  
 _In and out. That’s what Steve said. Get in, get out._  
"So how are you?" he asked a little too quickly, looking everywhere but at Cecil’s face. 

__Cecil kept a firm grip on the man's lap coat, teasing at the edges with his fingers as he grinned, his teeth white. "I'm much better now that you're here, my darling Carlos." He grinned wider, taking Carlos's hand and leading him down the hallway, towards his personal studio._ _

__"W-wait!" Carlos cried slightly, trying to hold himself back from the childish dragging. Things were quickly spinning out of control, the blonde literally yanking him out of his fragile comfort zone. "Wait, wait, Cecil! Where are we going? What's going on? I just came for my--"_ _

__"Just a chat, dear Carlos, just a chat..." He practically shoved the man into the studio, carefully closing the door behind him. "I've been waiting, and waiting, and you have no idea how wonderful it is to see you right now. So, what was it you wanted to tell me, my love?"_ _

__"It's- don't call me love- it's great to see you too, I guess..." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, his shoes suddenly becoming the most interesting things in the room. "Look, it really is rather late. I’m sorry you didn’t have enough time to take any concrete data, but I had a talk with the team and we all agree it’s best to leave the charting to the professionals. You understand.”_ _

__"Well, if I'm sending the wrong signal, I'm sorry." He snickered, raising his eyebrows at Carlos as he grinned. “Because I really think that I’ve been pretty clear, you know? On the radio, at that cute meetup we had, and now here, all alone together…”_ _

__Carlos took a defensive step back, crossing his arms over his chest and watching, searching for any sign that Cecil would make a sudden dive or motion. He was good at reading body language, and he didn’t like the spectacle growing in front of him. "Yes, no, I’m sure you were a very willing coworker and all, we just--”_ _

__Cecil only stepped forward more, his grin widening as he sauntered up to Carlos. Leaning up on his toes, he wrapped his arms around the man's neck to kiss his ear and whisper to him even as Carlos struggled. "Oh, my beautiful, confused Carlos. I think you were very clear as well. You certainly came fast enough. I asked for nine, and I don’t think it’s even eight forty..."_ _

__That was it. The mask of calm and collection Carlos wore fell to the ground the moment Cecil’s lips met his skin, his heart rate spiking. He twisted away from the kiss, panic flooding through him like a broken dam as he tried to turn his head away. "Ce-Cecil! Get off!" He grabbed the other's hair, firmly, and pulled him off. "Cecil, this isn’t funny! Off!”_ _

__With a yelp of discomfort, Cecil tried to squirm away from him, grabbing at the hand fisted in his hair. "C-Carlos! That hurts! Although, if you like it rough, I'm more than fine with that." With a wince, he smirked and reached out a slender arm to stroke Carlos's member through his pants, giving him an oh so gentle squeeze._ _

__That was it. Carlos lost any control he thought he had, helplessness taking over as his voice increased in pitch. He didn't release the other man despite the unwelcome touches, only pulling harder to make him stop. "Cecil, please, don't touch me- I don't- I don't want this!" Oh, gods, gods, he didn’t want this. His eyes darted around the room as his hips pressed back against the wall, trying to get away from the invasive gesture._ _

__"That _hurts_ , Carlos!" Cecil tried harder to escape, and in his efforts, he managed to get a hold of Carlos's arm and dragging him to his knees, struggling to get Carlos under him. "Carlos, let go! You're hurting me when all I want to do is make you happy!"_ _

__Carlos was forced to release as he was shoved to his knees, desperately trying to scramble backwards but only finding the wall behind him. "This is rape, Cecil! You're trying to rape me!" He looked about the room, desperate to get out. Lost. Alone. Emotions he never thought he’d have to face again to this degree. Where was Steve? "I don't- I don't want to be touched! I don't want you to make me feel good or whatever! I'm sorry!"_ _

__The manic grin dropped from Cecil's face as he went on his knees next to Carlos, stroking his face gently and kissing him as softly as he could before letting his fingers drift down to the trembling man's pants. "Carlos, Carlos, Carlos... This isn't rape, my darling. You love me, and I love you! This is how love works, my handsome, sweet scientist." His slender fingers worked at both of their belt buckles, opening both of their pants._ _

__Carlos grabbed at Cecil's hands, yelling now. Forget the watch. Forget Cecil’s feelings, forget the blood pumping throughout his body, forget his damn reputation. He needed to get out. " _Help! Steve! Someone, anyone! Help!_ " He tried to shove himself away, squirming as much as he could in an attempt to get away. " _I don’t love you! Stop! Someone help me!_ ”_ _

__Cecil gave him that infuriating smirk again as he held the other down as best he could, tugging his pants down with the other. "The station... Carlos, stop moving about, you're making this difficult, love... The station is empty, dear Carlos. It has been for hours. No one's here except you and me. I'm not really into voyeurism, but if that's what you like, I'm sure we could work something out." Finally, he got Carlos's pants down, and eased his hand into the struggling scientist's boxers, wrapping his hand around his member and beginning to stroke it._ _

__Carlos shrieked as Cecil missed the point, half out of fear and half out of pure frustration. As Cecil's hand grabbed his member, the vulnerability swallowed him like a pit, plunging him into the darkness he’d spent years climbing out of. He tried to use reason, his mind going into pure panic as he grasped at useless logic. “Please, Cecil. Cecil, okay. Okay-- okay, let’s just- talk. Talk, okay? Can we talk?”_ _

__By that point, Cecil had edged down his own pants to relieve his own hard length from the painful confines of his pants, and still hand his hand pumping up and down Carlos's now hard shaft. He paused with a frown, and pulled off his pants and boxers as he spoke, squeezing a bit of lube onto his fingers from a tube in his jacket pocket. "Alright then, while I get myself ready, is there anything you’d like to say about all these hurtful rumors about you supposedly leaving Night Vale, sweet Carlos?"_ _

__Carlos shuddered, searching for a story that could persuade the radio host to get off of him without offending him or giving him another scenario to twist to his benefit. "I- I need to get out. I don’t belong here. N-no hard feelings, I swear, I just want to get back to my family in New York. M-my brother, he’s- he’s handicapped, he needs my help..." He reached up and grabbed Cecil's throat, hard enough to force his eyes onto him but not choke him. "I don't love you. I'm not confused, I don't love you. I never will. And I'm sorry."_ _

__The sadness that had been sitting on Cecil's chest, crushing him for so long, sharpened, stabbing him. "Oh, Carlos..." He whispered, half heatedly removing the hand at his throat with his own non-lubed hand. "Carlos, I k-know that you love me. You _have_ to love me. I've just been so, so lonely, and then _you_ came along..." He trailed off, and after taking a deep breath, began prodding at his own entrance with his slick fingers, scooping inside of himself and stretching his body to prepare for Carlos. _ _

__Carlos hurt for the other man, understanding loneliness all too well. But they were talking now. Slow progress, yes, but it was something. He tried to ignore the other man playing with himself, calming the flips in his stomach as he struggled to find his state of scientific calm. "I'm sure we can be friends, Cecil. We can do friend things together. But not this." He bit his lip, shaking his head. "I'm not interested in this."_ _

__Feeling plenty stretched out, Cecil moved so that he was nearly straddling Carlos, slathering the shaking man's length with lube. Surely this would convince Carlos that he loved him... "We can do both, Carlos. We can love each other, and you'll be there for me, and you'll love me, and we'll always be together." He lined himself up with Carlos's hard length, and slowly sank down on it, wincing and biting his lip as he impaled himself._ _

__Carlos tried one last time to get away as his length was covered in the lube, but he couldn't get around the other man. He made a desperate reach for his cell phone, missing as Cecil forced him into his backside, yelling from how good it felt. "Ce- _St-!_ " He leaned against the wall, defeated, as a small tear fell down from his cheek. There was no use. He should never have come back._ _

__Cecil moaned throatily as he sank onto Carlos, enjoying the sensation of being filled, despite the empty feeling that was only growing in his chest at Carlos's reaction. Lifting himself up with a stuttering gasp, he sank back down on Carlos again, setting an unsteady rhythm. "C-Carlos..."_ _

__Carlos sobbed and stared at the corner of the room to his left, eyes screwing shut as he waited for it all to end. Memories of his uncle filled his mind. The cowering in the attic, the burning pain, the 'I'll take good care of you-'  
He choked again, shivering. He'd learned. _Just stay still and let it happen. Run away the moment he releases. He'll be too tired to catch you.__ _

__As Cecil moved up and down, shifting to allow Carlos to slide deeper inside of him, his raised a hand to the other's face, wiping away the tears. "C-Carlos, w-what's... wrong? I... I d-don't... un-understand..." He whispered unsteadily, feeling his stomach begin to clench as he moved faster, his breathing coming in ragged bursts. "D-don't w-worry... I'll ta-take good... c-care of you..."_ _

__He ripped his head away at the stabbing words, letting out a horrific cry as he kept his eyes squeezed shut. No. No. This wasn't happening. Not again. The creaking spare mattress, the sweat falling down onto his back, his eyes on the windowsill as he prayed, in vain, for his mother to come home.  
He felt nothing but pain and anger, not allowing himself to feel the pleasure forced upon him. He knew arguing with Cecil would get him nowhere, and that the damage was nearly done. He just hoped the cum wouldn't get on his new lab coat. _ _

__After a final, deep stab, Cecil groaned, spilling onto Carlos's shirt and pristine lab coat. He gasped for breath, closing his eyes as he tried to collect himself. Lifting himself up with a wince, he allowed Carlos to slide out of his entrance. "Oh, C-Carlos, that was wonderful, _you_ were wonderful. But... why are you upset? Carlos, why...?" He sat on his lap, his eyes half lidded as he softly yet desperately kissed the tearstained face in front of him, trying to fight his own sadness. Everyone had left him. That couldn't be allowed to happen again._ _

__Carlos shuddered as Cecil unloaded across his front, but he wasn't surprised by the fact. It was over. No matter how hopeless it seemed, it would always come to an end. That was all Carlos had to cling onto as a child. It was over as soon as it had started, the emotionless contact leaving him painfully hard and overwhelmingly filthy.  
 _Now, Carlos, now._ He waited for a few moments, letting several of the small kisses pepper his face, before turning onto his side, trying to shove the other off of him and yelling from the strain. _ _

__Cecil fell over with a gasp, and scrambled to Carlos's side after pulling up his own pants. "Carlos, what's the matter? Please, don't leave me!" He laid a hand across the man's shoulders, rubbing his back in an effort to calm him. "Darling, what's wrong? It's been a while since I've done this, since Steve and I broke up, but I didn't think I hurt you or anything."_ _

__" _Don’t touch me!_ " Carlos shrieked, struggling with the door-handle. Why wasn't it opening?! Cecil hadn't locked it. He tried and pulled and yanked and even pleaded, flinching away from Cecil as he battled the cursed handle. "Don't come any closer!"_ _

__His heart felt close to breaking as he walked back up to Carlos, wrapping a steady hand gently around his trembling ones. "What's wrong, love? I just... I can't let you out, you'll just leave me like everyone else has. Steve, and Earl, they all left me. All I have is... you." He removed his hands, instead wrapping his arms around the man's middle, hugging him close. "I love you, Carlos."_ _

__Carlos froze at the embrace. This wasn't going to work. He needed to convince Cecil to let him out, no matter how much he trembled at the touches. "I've never..." He turned around and held Cecil's face in his hands, swallowing. "I've never noticed how beautiful your eyes are before, Cecil," he whispered, stroking his thumb under the other's eyes and mustering up a small smile. "They're breathtaking..."_ _

__Could it be? Could he actually...? "C-Carlos, do you mean that?" Blushing, he smiled up at the larger man, staring up into his face with a wonderstruck expression. He drew closer to him, leaning into his touch and practically purring with happiness. "Thank you, my dear Carlos!"_ _

__"Of course, Cecil, of course." His mouth met Cecil's kissing him softly before pulling away slowly. "You really are beautiful, did you know that?" This was no time for guilt. Carlos was running off of survival instincts at this point, and he had been more than clear with Cecil in the past. He was delusional._ _

__Beautiful. Earl Harlan had called him beautiful, the day before he was killed. Earl Harlan, with his mused red hair and sunburnt nose. Beautiful. With Steve, such words had been less forthcoming, but he would have taken anything to not been in those empty, empty rooms where Earl and him had once been so happy together in. But Steve... It hadn't worked out in the end. And now Carlos, his amazing, perfect Carlos was telling him that he was beautiful. Smiling, he returned the kiss, bringing his hands up to stroke his love's hair._ _

__Carlos was patient, letting Cecil kiss him and participating with tender enthusiasm. Whatever it took, he'd get out. As far as Cecil should have been concerned, he had no reason to run from him now. He even threw in a tiny little moan, as extra insurance._ _

__A thrill went through Cecil's body at the kisses and moans he heard from Carlos, setting his guard down even further. Cecil broke the kiss after a while, and just gazed at him for a moment, happy to just be there, before hugging him lightly and affectionately, closing his eyes as he leaned onto Carlos's strong shoulder, not noticing the trembling._ _

__Carlos embraced Cecil back, regulating his breathing carefully and relaxing his muscles. He didn't dare suggest they leave the room- Cecil would have to initiate that if he weren't to be suspicious. He did feel sympathy towards the shorter man, but they were never going to see eye to eye. Carlos accepted that as fact. He swayed them side to side, whispering sweet spanish nothings into his ear as he trembled._ _

__Cecil swayed with him, relaxing more and more as he listened to the soft, kind words, the type of which he had not heard in a very long time. He carefully reached out, tugging a key from around his neck off and unlocking the door. "My house?" He said ever so quietly, giving Carlos one last kiss, hugging him again before he took his hand and gently led him out of the room._ _

__"Your house sounds-" The second the door opened, Carlos was sprinting, leaving his pants behind and not stopping to consider such. " _Help!_ " he yelled down the hallway, jumping to the stairs and shoving the door open, leaping down them. "Please! Someone! Help!"_ _

__" _Carlos!_ What are you _doing_?!" Cecil shrieked, running after him as quickly as he could, feeling his heart shatter once more. " _Carlos! Get back here!_ " He ran and ran, but Carlos was ultimately fitter than him, with longer legs, and was able to get away once more. "There isn't anyone in the building, Carlos! _Stop running!_ "_ _

__Carlos pressed himself against the exit doors, breathing in relief as they mercifully swung open. He ran out into the night, lab coat flying behind him as he waved his arms about his body. " _Help! Steve! Steve, help! Hurry, please!_ " He sprinted to the other end of the parking lot, cupping his hands over his mouth. He’d never dreamed Steve’s paranoia to be anything but tedious, but now…  
" _Steve, help!_ "_ _

__\--------_ _

__Even considering that Cecil was going to be a reasonable, mature adult about this sort of thing was a far stretch. Which is why Steve, knowing Cecil far better than he would have liked to, decided to camp out in the farthest corner of the station's parking lot to lie in wait of the impending disaster. And come, it did. When he heard the shouting, he turned his car back on, and swerved over to the white clothed man he saw sprinting out of the building. My god, he looked upset, and was he...? No pants? Jesus, Cecil... "Carlos! Get in!"_ _

__Carlos nearly sobbed at the sight of his getaway, not wasting the time to look over his shoulder as his tears clouded his vision. He hopped in, locking the door and throwing his seatbelt on. "Drive, Steve, drive!" he yelled, slapping the glove compartment in front of him with his hands as if to urge him on.  
As soon as they were out, safe on the road and out of Cecil’s grasp, Carlos let himself really cry. Just small, silent, broken tears, no longer spurred by panic or terror. These were genuine cries, dragged out by the painful reminders of his childhood.  
"Th- thank you, Steve," he murmured, sniffling and wringing his hands violently. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” He wiped at his eyes and took off the liquid-stained coat as best as he could sitting down, the stain only remind him of the… the… “You were right…” 

__Steve had hit the gas the minute he heard the shout from Carlos, hearing the true desperation in his voice, with none of the confidence or control that he had had before he went to see Cecil. What the hell had happened? As they drove on, Steve remained silent, letting Carlos sob in the passenger seat of his car, biting his lip as he tried to decide what to do. As he slowed, and then spoke, he leaned over to the glove compartment and tossed Carlos a small pack of tissues. "Cecil is the most unstable person I know, as well as the most hardheaded and clingy. I just… I thought it would be best to wait outside for you. As back up." He had driven halfway from the station to his house before his worry finally overcame him and he drove back, just in time to be the other man running out of the building. He glanced over, eyes filled with concern. "So... it didn't go well?"_ _

__Carlos nodded politely at the tissues, using two to wipe up his eyes, and three more to battle the icky goo that managed to get past his coat to his shirt. "That... that's an understatement," Carlos replied, shivering and sniffling as he worked to find his composition. But that strong, steady scientist he’d spent so long building up was long gone now. "He... didn't take no as an answer. I tried everything, really, but I--" He stopped himself. Steve was running low on tissues, and he didn’t know if he had the energy to cry any further. He felt like a tattered toy, beaten out of mint condition by careless children before being discarded in the back of the garage once again, forgotten. He wanted to curl up and die in a ditch, eaten away by sand and wind over time. Even then, he’d feel less empty than he did in this moment.  
He exhaled as his lips trembled, turning to the window and watching as his breath fogged up the glass uselessly. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered, curling in on himself a little more from the humiliation of the abuse and the embarrassment of his broken behavior._ _

__Steve smiled slightly as he drove on. They were quite close to his house now. "Don't beat yourself up about all this, alright?" He drove on thoughts churning in his head. _Didn’t take no for an answer…_ The words grew in his mind until they broke like a dam and he pulled over onto the dusty side of the road, turning around to face the scientist fully. "Carlos, when you say that he didn't take no for an answer, and I can't help but notice that you don't have any pants, do you mean that he...?"_ _

__Carlos drew his arms around himself a little more, hating how small and childish he felt. He nodded as the car slowed to a stop, instinct pulsing through him once more as he realized he wasn't wearing any pants in a locked car with another man. One of his hands slowly moved to the car door, just in case. He couldn’t trust anything nor anyone. "Yes," he whispered, throat knotting up. "But I'm- I'm alright, really. I don’t want to talk about it. Can you keep driving? Please?"_ _

__Steve shook his head quickly as he saw Carlos prepare to flee, dropping his voice to try and sooth the panicking man. "Shhh, Carlos, I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I'm not perfect, but I'm nothing like Cecil, I swear." He reached into the backseat of the car, retrieving a worn blanket and handing it to Carlos. "Here you go. I promise, you're safe with me. Let's take you to a hospital, alright? The police have to get to Cecil before he takes a shower, so they can get the DNA from him." He gave Carlos a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and a concerned look before pulling out and continuing to drive._ _

__Carlos sighed from relief as Steve started up the car again, holding the blanket defensively around his body. It only made him feel younger again, but at least it provided shelter from the freezing desert air. "Thank you," Carlos said, voice still hoarse and small. "I've, hah, I've never wanted to take a shower more in my life, but thank you." He reclined his chair slightly, keeping an eye on the other man. Sure, he trusted him, but he wasn't going to take any chances right now. He went into his Science Mode, analyzing his strange coworker. No erection, as far as he could tell. His hands seemed relatively steady, no anxious drumming or tapping. His posture was slightly slouched, suggesting wasn't trying to hide any mischievous intentions. As Carlos looked more and more, he felt himself slowly relaxing. "Let's just make it fast, okay?"_ _

__Nodding, Steve continued to drive in silence before getting to the hospital. Pulling up at the emergency room, Steve got out with him, keeping a hand on his elbow. "We'll talk to the doctors and we'll see what we can do to get Cecil, I promise. I'm your friend, and I'll be here. Only if you want, of course." He gave a shaky laugh, trying to put Carlos at ease. However, any attempt at prosecuting Cecil would be very difficult. The rest of the town adored him, not knowing the darker parts of his soul, and only seeing the radio personality that whispered a good night to them three nights a week._ _

__Carlos didn't need the help walking, but he didn't move his arm away from Steve. "You can stay," he said quietly. He couldn’t imagine answering the questions alone, the details and the subtext the nurses would require to convict the rapist. He needed a backbone, someone to hold him steady as he’d done so many months in the lab. "I'd like you to stay. Thank you."_ _

__The next hour was a blur of swabs, wipes, and chatty nurses, stripping him down with little to no regard for his level of discomfort. For the third time that night, he felt trapped and weak, watching as other people did what they wanted with him and his body. He gripped onto Steve's hand as they asked what had happened, shivering against the cold of the metal table they'd laid him out on. "Cecil..." Carlos choked.  
"Oh, Mr. Palmer!" the nurse exclaimed, smiling brightly. Her tone was far from appropriate under the circumstances, face lighting up at the mention of the town’s local celebrity. "Yes, dear, what about him?"  
Carlos hit his lip and squeezed Steve's hand tighter. 

__Steve had stayed by Carlos's side tirelessly, politely turning his head away as he was undressed, but never giving off an air of disgust or shame. He held the other's hand tightly in return, rubbing the knuckles gently in an effort to give even a small bit of comfort. As the conversation leaned towards what had happened, he felt his heart sinking, but he didn't dare show his true sadness at the events. No one deserved what had happened to Carlos, and while he had known that Cecil wasn't right in the head, he never thought he would get this bad that he would so brutally attack someone. The nurse's reaction to Cecil's name was even worse, and he was hoping the reaction to his own name wouldn't be as influenced by the radio. "I'm Carlos's friend, Steve Carlsberg. Cecil was the one who did this, ma'am. If you send the police out for him now, we may still have a chance to catch him."_ _

__"Cecil?" she repeated, clearly shocked. She shook her head, blatantly expressing her disdain at the accusation. "Sorry, honey, but even if I did want to turn him in, he's a Gemini. It's his Crime Day." She removed Carlos's IV from his arm with noticeably less grace than when she’d stuck it in. "You're hydrated enough. I recommend returning home and showering. Good evening, gentlemen." She left the room in a huff, throwing the scientist's clothes to him as she went.  
Carlos looked up to Steve helplessly, crossing his legs as best as he could to cover himself with the stained clothing. Cecil could get away with anything, couldn’t he? He could show up at Carlos’s house in the middle of the night whenever he wanted, surprising him in the kitchen or the shower and...  
At least Steve was there. Reliable, steady, noninvasive Steve. While Carlos's practical side knew Steve was already doing more than he could have ever asked for, he was too frightened of his own home, car, and life to consider anything else. "Steve?" he asked quietly. "Can I spend the night at your house? I'll be... I'll be out of your hair in the morning." 

__Refraining from yelling back at the nurse, Steve contented himself with letting out an angry huff before turning back to the scared man sitting on the examining table. Aggression wouldn’t help anyone right now, not when more important things were at stake. "Carlos, you can stay with me as long as you'd like. My home is your home." He mustered up a small simile as he helped him into his clothing. Leaving the hospital, Steve kept a careful arm around Carlos, trying to help as much as he could despite the fact that the other man could walk. Easing him into the car and climbing in himself, Steve began to head towards his own home. "Carlos, I'm so sorry about Cecil. Has anyone explained Crime Day to you?"_ _

__"I don't think I want to know," Carlos said sadly, looking out the window of the tan corolla. At least he had a place to stay, no matter how intrusive or guilty he felt about it. Night Vale was too bizarre, too hopeless for him to ever have a prayer of conforming to. "I have to get out," Carlos whispered, his clothes beginning to feel and making him crinkle his nose. "I don't- I don't belong here." He turned to the other, reaching over and grabbing his hand again. Steve was quickly becoming the only thing that made sense to him. "Did he ever... to you?" he asked, hoping he wasn't asking too personal a question. He had to know. He didn't know why he had to know, but he did._ _

__"We did sleep with each other, and while Cecil was forceful about it, he never did that to me. He was plenty creepy, though. My god, the man has no concepts of personal boundaries… I broke up with Cecil because he was so violently emotional and childish that he would go out and sleep with absolute strangers to get revenge on me if we had a fight. He never caught anything, but he would take pictures or sound clips and send them to me. Like I said, he's very unwell." He shivered, thinking back to the many messages he had deleted over the course of their relationship. “Very, very unwell…”_ _

__The scientist whimpered in the seat beside him as another wave of tears threatened to break loose. Biting his lip, Steve pulled over the car again, turning to talk to Carlos. “Carlos... Carlos, look at me, it's alright... I'm not going to let him hurt you again, you understand?" He reached out and gently lifted Carlos's face from his knees. "You're safe now, friend." He gave him what he hoped was a comforting smile._ _

__Carlos felt his heart leap slightly as the car stopped again, but didn't say anything. "I believe you," he said, nodding and focusing what little energy he had left on reeling in his pathetic cries. "Thank you." After a few moments of silence, Carlos couldn't help himself. "You're so kind, Steve... how can Cecil make so many people hate you?"_ _

__"Because literally everyone in town listens to his show. What he says is law, and he’s set me up as a freak and an all around horrible person." He shrugged, but smiled. "Thanks, Carlos. I'm not saying I’m a saint, don't get me wrong, but I don't think I'm some monster like Cecil says."  
Or…  
At least…  
Well, monster was a difficult word even in the best of times… He shifted in his seat, shivering at the way his back rubbed against his seat. The tightness curled around his ribcage like a snake, reminding him of a few things that would need a bit of tending to… But in the end, normalcy would be attained, just as he strived for every night. He wouldn't let them get carried away at the arrival of the vulnerable scientist.  
Cecil was not right about him, and never would be.  
He was not a monster.  
He had control.  
Giving Carlos another smile, he started driving again until they reached his home. 


	3. In Which the Veneer of Normality is Dropped

"Here we are. It's not much, but I've got a soft spot for it."

Carlos looked at the house with speculation. It was a one-level, tan and plain and strikingly normal. The shrubs outside were well kept despite the desert climate, and his grass looked a little too green to be real. It was almost as if he were trying to seem _too_ normal. He shifted at the prospect of entering another man’s home, but didn't say anything more than a small "thank you." Finally climbing out of the car, he bundled the blanket Steve had given him around himself a little tighter. He was always the top man in the laboratory- the one in charge, the alpha, the leader. Feeling this vulnerable wasn't something he'd experienced in a long time. He tried to channel that same immunity he’d lived his life by, but it was broken and lost. He was a child, now, hopeless and struggling to get by until the next catastrophe swept him away.  
He followed Steve to the door.

Steve ushered him into the house, the inside just as forcefully, painfully normal as the front. "I've worked hard to get this place looking good. Took a lot of work to get all the Night Vale out of here." He ushered Carlos into the bathroom, starting the water for him. "I've got some clothes that should fit you. You're a bit broader than I am, but it should work." He shrugged and began walking out the door before turning back. "Do you want some help? Getting clean, I mean. I'm not like Cecil, I won't touch you if you don't want me to."

Carlos's eyes widened as they walked through Steve's house, looking at the unused cushions and china plates and mild decor. As they walked to the bathroom, he only drew the blanket around him more, smiling politely at Steve. It was late at night, and the poor man looked exhausted. Carlos couldn't help but feel like he was using the other. "No, thank you," he said. The last thing he wanted was to be naked again. Only after he’d checked to make sure Steve was really gone, he stripped down to his boxers and locked the door. He washed himself thoroughly, but somehow the stench of Cecil's body and presence wouldn't wash off. He scrubbed himself with a fresh soap bar, turning his skin red as he rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, but it wasn't enough. He knew this feeling. This feeling of being a _tool_ for someone else’s physical pleasure. It dehumanized him, made him feel worthless and tossable. Signing, he climbed out of the shower, triple checking to make sure that the bathroom door was still secure, and changed into the spare clothes. They were a little tight, but nothing he could even begin to complain about. Somehow, Steve's slight scent on the material was comforting.  
He emerged, running a spare towel over his head and trying to wring out the last of the water. "Steve, I can't begin to thank you." He looked at the bed and smiled, shaking his head and walking towards the living room. "I'll take the couch."

Steve smiled to see him, although his smile faltered with concern when he saw the raw patches on Carlos' skin. "I have a guest room. I hardly use it, but I do keep it around for when a friend needs somewhere to stay. Come with me, Carlos." He spoke softly, gesturing for the broken man to follow him just down the hall a bit to a mid sized, cozy looking room. "I changed the sheets while you took a bath. Although, speaking of that..." He led Carlos to the bed and sat him down, gently rolling up his sleeves to see the damage caused. "Carlos, what happened?"

Carlos sat on the stiff mattress, watching as Steve sat down next to him. He was close- too close, and as much as he wanted to shift away, he didn’t want to do anything that could provoke a dangerous response.  
"I... I felt dirty," he said quietly. 

Biting his lip, Steve examined the wounds before speaking in a soothing voice. "You aren't dirty, and you really can't do this again, no matter what. Hold on, I'll get some bandages." He left for the first aid kit, coming back with a little water for Carlos as well. "Lucky for you, I worked as a nurse before I came to Night Vale." He smiled lightly, taking a jar of antibiotic cream and carefully cleaning off Carlos' arms, wrapping them up. "If you feel dirty like that again, come and see me, no matter what time it is or whatnot, alright? You're my, uh, friend, and I hate to see you get hurt. Because you’re… I just don’t want to see anything bad happen to you. Or anyone."

Carlos flinched as Steve rubbed up and down his arms, but stayed still. It stung, but the scientific part of his mind told him that this was good for him- that the sting only meant that it was healing him.   
A nurse? He hadn't known Steve was a nurse. To be honest, he didn’t know much about his unusually chatty coworker at all. "You were a nurse?" he asked, clenching his teeth slightly as the gauze was wrapped around his arms. "I- I didn't know. Um…” He looked down at his scratched and burned flesh, bandaged by this stranger. “I’m sorry about the… the… this. I won’t do it again.”

"That’s okay. Now then, are you ready to go to bed, or...?" He bustled over to the closet in the room, grabbing one of his warmer blankets and patiently arranging it over Carlos’ shoulders. In his own lonely nights, holed up in his home when the sun had faded from his gardens, he had often sought comfort under the squishy warmth of the soft, soothing blankets, and it was time to share the good feelings. Heaven knew Carlos deserved it. "I loved nursing, but I was driving through to find a house so I could work at a hospital near by after I was laid off, and I just..." He shrugged, his eyes glazed. 

The chief scientist let the conversation die, fingering slightly at the frayed end of the gauze. Some part of him was still paralyzed, still a loaded springboard ready to release. The blanket around him felt more constricting than comforting, as though he were a prisoner to his own weaknesses. He felt suffocated in the kindness, as much as he appreciated it, and anticipated any sort of obligation Steve be requiring.  
“I’m leaving in the morning. I never should have seen him. Like you said. I- I’m just- I need to get out--”

"No one can leave Night Vale.” Steve’s voice was quiet, almost shame filled as he looked away from his coworker, focusing on straightening up the bed. “Not permanently, that is. I know for a fact that Cecil took a vacation in Europe, and he was fine because he meant to come back. Among… other things… I think…”

“Carlos, it’s…” Steve sighed, brushing his hair out of his face awkwardly. “It kind of… it’s just a touch more complicated to leave than you’d think… But that doesn’t matter right now. W-we just have to get into bed and ready to sleep, right? Like, we aren’t going to work tomorrow, but we will eventually, and-- ”

"I don’t understand," Carlos said with a scratchy voice, the blanket twisting between his fingers. "...what do you mean, we can't leave?" The panic was clear in his eyes, the thought of being trapped within fifty miles of that horrible _monster_ paralyzing him further. He’d come back. They always came back. He’d appear in the doorway and whisper false promises, hands migrating down as Carlos shivered and waited for it to end. There was no way he could leave himself this exposed, this _accessible_. "I don’t care if it’s some sort of- of government regulated thing or, or five-headed dragon guardian, or- or- or whatever! I just-- there has to be a way! Can't we just pack our bags and- and go?"

"Shhh... Carlos, calm down, it'll be alright..." Steve gripped his hand soothingly. "Night Vale... changes you. It changes everyone, and it doesn't let people leave. I mean, there are very few outsiders, like you and me, but no one, even those born here, can leave." He shuddered, looking away sadly. "I tried not to let it get to me, but... you know..."

Carlos couldn't calm down. He shot up, carelessly undoing the draped covers around him and staring Steve in the face, desperate. "I can't stay here!" he almost yelled. "I can't stay here, not while that... _thing_ is out there!" He shuddered, staring at the vintage radio laying on the table in the other corner of the room and gripping Steve's hand tighter. "I can't stay here, not with Cecil... why don't we just leave?! We could get out tomorrow! Get in our cars, leave it all, move on?! This place must be driving you crazy! It must be! Tell me you've never thought about it!"

Steve returned the grip of Carlos' hand, reaching around him to rub the shattered man's back as well. He looked on sadly as he listened, shaking his head as he spoke quietly. "Carlos, I've tried so many times to leave this… this… Gods, there isn’t even a word for what this place really is.... But the point is that none of my little attempts have worked so far. The last time I tried to just drive away, my car kept ending up in the middle of the supermarket, no matter where I turned." And after everything that happened, the culture shock of actually reaching the real world would be truly awful. Besides. There were other ways, more insidious ways that this wretched place had changed him… Even if he _could_ leave, it might be wisest to think it over a bit…

Carlos looked up at Steve as his expression darkened slightly. The realization was sinking in. Surely, Cecil would hate him after the his rejection at the station. He'd take it to the radio, taint his name, turn the town against him too. As he stared at Steve, he realized he was looking in a mirror. At his future. And it terrified him.   
"We're men of science, Steve. We can figure this out. We... we have to." He stared at the wall, blank. "We just have to. Come on, couldn't we walk out? It's hot, yeah, but with the right equipment we could home out of here. Maybe stop at that Bluffs place." Carlos was still relatively new to the town, and he didn't understand the hatred between the two towns. He'd chalked it up to some sort of sports rivalry.

"Desert Bluffs?! Are you _insane_?" Steve's eyes widened as he paled. "Carlos. Desert Bluffs is the only thing I agree with the rest of the town about, although even they don't understand the truth about what that place is. You /do not/ want to go there. Ever. _Ever_ , Carlos!" He shook his head. "I've tried everything, Carlos. I'll come with you if you want to try, but I'll tell you now that you can't get out of Night Vale."

Carlos was startled by Steve's reaction, but it was nothing but convincing. "Alright! Got it, got it..." He pondered for a moment. "Alright. Then what are we supposed to do? Hide away while Cecil dictates this place like his own personal set of dolls? There must be something we can do."

"I'll... I'll think of something. Or you'll think of something. WE will think of something. You know what I mean." He carefully tucked the scientist back in, arranging the blankets carefully around him. "We'll talk about it in the morning. You need your rest." The man glanced around the room. Tissues? Check. Spare clothes for Carlos? Check. Something to distract him from the inevitability of their stay in Night Vale? Hell, he hadn’t found it for himself, even...

Carlos flushed a little, suddenly scared of being left alone at night as the childish fear of the dark settled in. "Steve?" he asked, voice cracking ever so slightly as if he were on the edge of tears. As far as he knew, he was. "Steve? Could you..." He lifted the covers next to him. It was humiliating, to have fallen from the top of the heap to the base of the pyramid, trembling and shaking as though the smallest gust of wind would carry him away. But he needed the security, and Steve was the only one left in the town he remotely trusted. If that psychopath returned, he… he would need someone there. Strong or not, Steve was all he had. “I’m sorry, I just-- please.”

Nodding, with a soft smile, Steve went under the covers, snuggling up next to Carlos. Shifting a bit to get comfortable, he murmured quietly. "Goodnight, Carlos. This will all be better in the morning, I promise." A lie. But it was a more comforting lie to smear away the harshness and the pain of the day. The Elder gods would forgive such a lie, certainly. 

He inhaled sharply at the initial touch, his heart thudding away in his ears as he counted his breaths and balled his fists. This was Steve. This was his coworker, the man who reminded him to eat when he’d been working too hard. He’d kept him safe from the radio for months, now. He could trust him for one more night. "Thanks," Carlos whispered, instinctively turning and draping one arm over the man for something to cling to. Someone he could rouse if the radio host returned. "Goodnight to you, too."

The two of them fell asleep curled in each other's arms, two outsiders in a small, odd town. The night air was forgivingly cool, drifting into the room like a cat smugly curling up next to it’s master, keeping the pair of outcasts comfortable as they slept. But after the night moved on, the sun rose, as it so often did, and the night fell away, allowing the desert sunlight to drift into Steve's guest room, where the two lay together. However, the peace would not last long, as Steve curled in the bed, something strange moving on his back, neither arm nor shoulder, under where Carlos had laid his hand.

Carlos woke up slowly, groggy and lethargic in his movements. There was a brief moment of panic before he remembered where he was, that he was behind locked doors in a friend’s arms. He smiled at Steve, grateful that there was something _normal_ in this god forsaken town- something he could rely on. Sleep had calmed him, even if it hadn’t banished the vulnerability. For this moment, he was safe.  
He closed his eyes and rubbed his thumb along Steve's shifting arm, smiling and nuzzling into his arms a bit more as-  
Wait a minute.  
Carlos' eyes flashed open, ice freezing in his veins and breath coming up short. One, two...  
Three...  
He pulled away immediately, falling out of the bed in a tangle of hair, covers, and screams.

Steve had been pleasantly asleep before loud, terrified screams invaded his dreams. He bolted awake and out of the bed, screaming in terror before he realized exactly what was happening, running over to the other man. Well, if it was a nightmare, it certainly wasn’t anything unusual for someone who had gone through what had happened last night. "Carlos! What's wrong?" he gave a nervous laugh, reaching out to calm him. "You really scared me there, friend."

Without giving Steve so much as a second look, he jumped back up and searched the bed, pulling back the covers with vigor and searching, panting. His hair was wild and his muscles were strained, the scientist looking behind his back every passing second as though someone would come up from behind and shove him to the mattress. "Someone else was here!" he yelled, literally shaking with fear and adrenaline. "Someone else was here and _they were holding my hand_!"

Cold washed over Steve. Oh no... No, please, anything but this... "I, um, I don't know what you mean! Perhaps that was a bad dream?" It was for Steve, in any case. "Maybe you got tangled in the sheets? You know, that happens to me _so often_." If only it was as simple as that…

"Cecil?!" Carlos yelled down the hallway, grabbing the nearest heavy object (a lamp) and starting for the walkway. Adrenaline was pulsing through him, the scientist throwing every door open as he made his way throughout the house. He expected that wicked smile to be lingering in every shadow, just waiting for him... "Come out, you bastard!! Come out, come out!!!"

His eyes widening, Steve bolted down the hallway after Carlos. Damn it... He didn't ever want to tell him, didn’t want to tell anyone, but it seemed like he would have to. The head scientist was an incredibly intelligent man, and it wouldn’t have taken him too long to figure it all out anyway. "Carlos, please! Come back! It wasn't Cecil, he can't get you here! Just calm down and let me explain!"

Carlos turned slowly from the kitchen, suspiciously so. Didn't Steve say he didn't know what it was? Then, suddenly, he said he could explain? "I'm not coming back into that bedroom- tell me from there!" He looked to the door, studying what type of lock it was in case a speedy escape was necessary.

Heaving a deep sigh, Steve began removing his shirt, revealing tight, purple stained bindings wrapped around his chest and stomach. They seemed to me moving, wriggling slightly…

Carlos froze up, staring at the tentacles. No. No. The last thing he had. The last friend, the last ounce of normalcy he had put his faith into… He felt like falling to his knees, the last of his reality shattering at the sight of the alien appendages. Only his will to escape kept him upright. "What are you?" he demanded, fighting his body's screaming message to bolt. He raised the lamp in defense, ready to strike.

Trembling with embarrassment and fear, Steve unwound the bindings, letting the four, dark purple, sticky and oozing tentacles loose, letting them curl and uncurl around him like tendrils of dripping, nearly black shadows. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done this, exposing himself to another person… "I'm so sorry..." 

An apology? No demonic noises, no hollow voices, no whipping or thrashing or chasing? "Steve..." Carlos whispered shakily, not wanting to believe it but staring the evidence right in the face. Every day, eight in the morning to five or later, Steve was the person who understood Carlos’ lifestyle. The one who distanced himself from the abnormal as much as he could. "Steve, explain. Please." He didn't want to lose the last person he trusted, but he kept himself in the brace position. 

"There's more..." He sighed, and removed the dentures he usually kept in almost constantly, allowing his sharp, shark like teeth to snap down from his gums as he blinked, letting his eyes flood over with obsidian, the sclera darkening into pitch blackness as he desperately tried to keep ground. He spoke as softly and calmly as he could despite the panic creeping over him. "I'm still me, underneath this, and I... I..." He felt tears begin to flow down his face, but couldn't find it in himself to stop them.

Carlos loved horror movies.   
There was something about them that made him calm- the familiarity of the same basic plotline and stereotypical characters contented him. Yes, he jumped every now and again, but that just added to the thrill of the experience.  
The fun, however, was in that it would never happen to him.   
Standing there, staring at his worst possible nightmare in the face, he felt like the shaking blonde who died at the beginning of every film. The stupid one who was too dim to run. He couldn't just... but he had to...  
"Explain." It wasn't a request. It was a demand. 

The now monstrous Steve, sharp toothed, black eyed, tentacled Steve was crying as he stepped towards Carlos, a trembling hand outstretched to him as he spoke, his voice a broken whisper. "Night Vale changes you, Carlos. My human teeth started falling out after a few months, but when I went to a dentist, they said it w-was normal. Then the sharp ones began growing in. And the tentacles... " He shuddered, tilting his head to stare through his years at Carlos. “T-they b-began growing, and…” He stopped talking, biting back a sob. “I’m so sorry, Carlos!”

Carlos looked Steve up and down, chest heaving. He looked scary, sure, but he was crying and sensitive. Carlos didn't trust him- not even remotely- but he still lowered the lamp, knees going weak as he leaned against the wall to prop himself up. "Stay back, Steve." He took a deep breath. "Just... put those away." He pointed to the tentacles with a quivering hand. He wasn't going to put it past Steve. Carlos knew now. He wouldn't be able to escape Steve if he had the extra appendages out. "Please."

Letting loose a single sob, his shoulders shaking, Steve bowed his head and began the painstaking process of re-applying the bindings once again, squishing the tentacles back in place. He looked up, his hands stained purple from the ooze of the tentacles, and his sharp teeth a bone white. "T-the teeth and eyes too? I'm so, s-so sorry, C-Carlos..."

Carlos took a shaky step forward, ignoring the question. He didn't care about the teeth or the eyes. So long as Steve's mouth didn't get close enough to take a chunk out of his shoulder. This couldn’t have been the same man who’d tended to him when he was at his weakest. And yet, he was. He took another step. And another. "This is why you can't leave, right? I can still get out, right?"

"I can never leave. Ever. B-but my... _condition_... isn't the only thing stopping me, Carlos." The creature whispered, reaching out a purple stained hand to him. "What I said was true. You _can't_ leave Night Vale."

Carlos stared at Steve like he was staring at a mirror, shivering and reaching his hand up to his own teeth. "No.." He leaned against the hallway wall, right next to Steve, and sank to the floor, dropping the lamp carelessly. He felt even more helpless than before. "No no no no no..." Carlos looked up to Steve, fresh tears in his eyes. "I'm so- I'm so sorry... for what happened to you... but I'm not letting it happen to- to me..."

With another sob, Steve nodded to Carlos and carefully began pushing his fangs up into his skull once again, with a whimper of discomfort as he placed the convincing dentures in again, making it look as though he was human after all. Blinking the obsidian from his eyes, he looked over at Carlos and began walking over to him, holding a hand out to him as he whispered hoarsely. "I won't let it happen to you, Carlos. I... I care about you, and I never want to see this happen to you." He tried to give a shaky, faint smile as he inched closer.

Carlos should have ran- he knew it- but when he looked up at how scared Steve was that he was going to leave, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He let the monster of a man get closer, grateful that he'd put in the dentures and fixed his eyes. There was something almost euphoric that came with solving a puzzle, and he'd just figured one out: why Steve kept such a normal house. If he really embraced the monstrous nature, he would have given up and allowed Night Vale to take over all aspects of his life. But no. Steve was making every effort he could to be his old self. This was a monster who was a slave to the cruel nature of the town, not a man who kept a secret identity through the day to prey upon the weak at night.  
Carlos reached up and took Steve's hand, ignoring the purple and gently pulling the other man down and beside him.   
"Steve? Is that..." He swallowed, eyes flickering between his teeth and his eyes. "Is that, all? No more transformations?"

Steve shook his head. "Not for me, Carlos. But Cecil is quite different. More subtle." He sat down next to Carlos, gently moving closer to him, nudging their shoulders to together as if trying to prove that he was solid, that he was there, and not a monster. If it didn't work, and Carlos hated him and moved out, then there was little he could do. He certainly wouldn't like what he had to tell him next, that much was certain. "Speaking of the, um, physical differences that Cecil has, and this may be painful to talk about, so I'm sorry in advance, did he wear protection when he... And was he, um, I know he likes to be fucked, but did he...? I wouldn't ask unless it was a necessity, Carlos, I'm trying to help you."

Carlos almost began to relax as Steve nudged into him. Night Vale was getting to him- the acceptance of the totally bizarre was just another part of his daily life. Also, this was Steve they were talking about. If he wanted to murder him, he could have done it a long time ago. In the car, at the lab, in his bed the night prior, etc. There was no reason he'd attack now over before, if that was his ultimate goal.   
He froze up at the question, closing his eyes. Why did it matter? Still, Steve knew more than he could ever pray to understand at the moment, and he complied. "He- he- I was in him, I didn't finish, he did. Steve, why's that matter?"

"Because Cecil... the changes that Night Vale causes can often be..." He thought for a word. "... subtle. For example, Cecil has informed me that he's able to get pregnant. I'm not sure how, and I don't want to know, but he seemed very serious when we discussed it while we were still together." Swallowing, bracing himself for Carlos's reaction, he continued. "Did he put protection on you? I know he doesn't take any pills of the sort, and even pre-cum could get someone pregnant..."

"No," Carlos whispered, eyes shooting open again as he instinctively reached downward and grabbed Steve's hand. "No. None of that. Stop that." He looked to Steve with complete horror. That was… no. Even with Uncle Jorge, that hadn’t been a concern. To think that there would be lifelong ramifications to a nightmare he didn’t want to revisit was the worst kind of torture. "Steve, isn't there anything I can do? Anything at all?"

Steve sighed, speaking in what he hoped was a soothing tone as he held Carlos's hand, giving it a squeeze. "If he did become pregnant, he would announce it on the radio. If you want to know before then, I suppose you could try asking him, or asking around. He's very close with Old Woman Josie, and she doesn't even hate me for what Cecil's said about me, so she'd probably help you find out. If it turns out that he's pregnant, well... I just don't know..."

Carlos stared up at the ceiling, readjusting his hand so his fingers were intertwined with the monster's. He wasn't going to father Cecil's demon child. He couldn't. He'd grown up without a father, and all it did was make him stronger. Sure, he missed him every now and again, but he was more of an idea than a missing reality.  
"...will Night Vale stop me from killing myself, Steve?"

The monster looked shocked for a moment, biting back its initial comment, and only giving Carlos's hand a reassuring squeeze before moving to face him, both of his hands on the tortured scientist’s shoulders. "C-Carlos, if Night Vale doesn't stop you, I will. We'll fight this together, and I swear on my life, I won't let anything bad happen to you. No transformations, no suicide, no boundaries-ignorant radio host children." Steve tried to smile and failed, leaning forward and hugging the scientist. "I'll be here to help you, and I can help you get rid of the child while we still can. There's stuff we could slip in his drinks, or... operations..."

Carlos embraced Steve back, voice still cool and collected. He was going to make his mind up, and soon. He was systematic like that. "Alright, so we could try killing the baby. If there even is one. Or, could we try freeing the town from the horror that is Cecil himself?" Carlos gently shoved Steve off of him, voice disturbingly cool about the subject at hand. "Why don't we kill him? Stop the problem at the root, prevent it from happening again?"

Steve backed up, but tried to move next to Carlos, letting their shoulders brush. "Well, that'll be much trickier than just killing the baby, you know. I'm pretty sure Cecil's under protection. Like, one hundred percent sure. He's the Voice of Night Vale, after all, and I still remember everyone freaking out when the last Voice was eaten alive by brain slugs. Very nasty." He shivered, inspecting his fingernails carefully. "We could try, though. You have any way you'd like him to go out from?"

It was hard to focus on an elaborate murder plan with how troubled Steve seemed. He was sure there was a way to kill the radio host, but he couldn't put Steve's transformation from the forefront of his mind. He looked horribly uncomfortable, now that he knew what he was looking at. How did it feel, having to wear dentures and retractable contacts? And the bindings... they looked like something out of a medieval dungeon. As their shoulders brushed and rested together, Carlos could feel the strain of the muscles. Holding his breath, he released Steve's hand. Perhaps, in a controlled setting under calm circumstances, Carlos could get over his fear.   
"Let me see you." He raised his eyebrows, as encouragingly as he could manage. 

Steve looked a bit taken aback, turning to him with a worried, crinkled forehead. "Carlos, what is it?" He squirmed, shifting to get comfortable under Carlos's gaze. "W-what's wrong? Because, I know after what happened, it might be a little weird, and I have thought about getting the tentacles amputated, or just removing them myself, but it looked so painful, and I just couldn't bear to do it. Besides, I... I tried cutting one off once, and the mucus makes it incredibly difficult to slice. I just gave up after twenty minutes, but if it was you asking, and if it would make you happy, I could t-try again..."

"I don't want you to chop yourself up," Carlos said simply, backing away to allow the other more room. "The only way I'm comfortable around something is to observe it, Steve. I like you. Let me observe you." He nodded to the other again, smiling as much as he could to encourage him. However, he quickly jumped on his own words. "I- I mean, only if you want to." He didn't know how self conscious one could be with mutated appendages, but he imagined he'd be pretty shy about them himself. Besides, Steve was always trying his hardest to look _normal._

He swallowed, looking surprised for a moment before shame overtook his features. Nodding slowly and averting his eyes from Carlos, he moved to the other side of the room, in the darkest corner he could find, and began to unwind the bindings again. He couldn't help the sigh of pure relief that left his mouth as he got them all off, allowing his tentacles to curl and uncurl, playing with the fibers of the carpet, smoothing them down with their purple mucus and teasing at the edges of the curtain, seemingly acting like an extension of his sense of touch, like a cat's whiskers. Steve, however, felt only shame as he edged out his dentures again, letting his true teeth slid down from his gums again as he allowed his true, obsidian eyes to flicker back.

Carlos smiled, just a little, at the small sigh Steve made. It was almost like watching a child wake up in the morning, if that child happened to be a deadly squid. But he seemed to relieved, content, that he couldn't help but grin back. He chose to ignore the eyes and the teeth, taking a few cautious steps forward and reaching for one of the tentacles. "M-may I?" Carlos asked, holding out his hand. He needed to feel it for himself and register just how strong the appendages really were. It was half for his safety, and half out of pure boyish curiosity.

Initially flinching back violently, Steve slowly blinked his whiteless, unblinking eyes at him and extended a thick tentacle to him, stretching it out gently. It touched Carlos's hand with the utmost care, wrapping it around the man's arm in what he hoped would be received as a hug like gesture, despite his sense of absolute mortification at the mere idea of letting perfect, /normal/ Carlos be defiled by touching something like him. “If… if you hate it, I’ll stop right away, I promise.”

Carlos shivered at the wetness that the tentacle possessed, but it didn't scare him. Not like it had before. Watching Steve to make sure he wasn't going too far, he gently took the top few inches of the appendage between his fingers and guided it, gently, to his eyes. There were veins throughout it, and it seemed to be pumping in time with the normal human heart. It wasn't a demon or a parasite- it was Steve. "It's... it's actually pretty cool," Carlos said quietly, stroking his finger along the width of it to gather some of the slime onto his fingers, holding it up to the light and peering at it. Nothing threatening or deadly, from what he could tell. His shoulders slowly relaxed, and he gave a small smile to Steve. "Really cool."

Steve had been tense as the appendage was examined, but he calmed at Carlos's words, giving him a hesitant, toothy grin. "You think they're... cool? Carlos, that's so kind of you..." He inched closer, relaxing further and wrapping another tendril around his arm, leaning it up to tease and play with his hair. Wincing at the purple slime he was getting onto him, he pulled it away and down to stroke Carlos's face as gently as someone would hold a butterfly. "Carlos, you kind, kind man..."

"I'd be a pretty bad scientist if I didn't find them somewhat intriguing, wouldn't I?" Steve was smiling. Good. But then the tentacle touched his face.   
He held his breath at first, waiting for it to wrap around his throat or shove itself down his esophagus. But the look on Steve's face- the pure _relief_ \- brought the smile back out. He ignored the goo on his face for the time being, allowing Steve’s extensions to map out his face.  
"I'm far from kind..."

Steve had flinched back when he felt Carlos's tense up at the feel of him touching his face, but relaxed with him as he brought another tentacle up, letting them run over his body. There wasn't really anything sexual about it, more like a blind man mapping out a picture of someone's face with their hands. "Carlos, you didn't react quite as poorly as some of the other people who've found out in the past. You didn't try and hurt me, or run away. To me, that's kind."

Carlos stood as still as possible as Steve explored him. So long as he didn't make any sudden movements or changes in demeanor, Carlos was more than happy to let Steve's... extensions touch him. "I'm assuming you can feel what they feel?" Carlos asked, reaching down again for a spare one and tracing the veins. "And you're in complete control of them, correct?" The wheels in his brain were already turning- they seemed strong, despite their current gentle nature. How long could the famous Voice of Night Vale last with a tentacle wrapped around his throat?

"Right on both counts. They're much more sensitive than my normal skin, however, and they need to be kept moist to keep the mucus from drying out, so I have to shower twice a day." He spoke softly, letting out a soft little laugh at Carlos's fingertips along the veins of the limbs, causing them to shiver and curl up, almost like they were ticklish. "Like I said, they're sensitive." Control them? Well, that was an interesting question indeed...

Carlos smirked back and released them, satisfied. He understood them now- there was no reason to be afraid. While he wouldn't exactly call them 'cute,' they were rather docile. Almost shy.   
Suddenly, his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, gods Steve! I didn't give you the chance to shower last night!" He instantly started panicking, despite Steve's overall content manner. He didn't want to cause the other any more pain or turmoil than he already had. "Oh, oh gods, we have to get you moistened right away!"

His tentacles were always so uncomfortable within the bindings, and he had left the tight bandages on over night. That, combined with the fact that he had missed his night shower and now his morning shower made his body ache more than ever. "I missed this morning, too. It's not so bad, really. the skins a bit broken near my back and on the tips, but if they haven't started bleeding yet, it's still nothing to worry about." Still, he had been quite uncomfortable... Edging himself up off the floor and easily tugging Carlos up to his feet as well, he began to walk over to the bathroom, murmuring assurances to Carlos as he held the scientist's hands. "It'll be fine, I promise. Thank you, Carlos. See? You're worried about me! I'd say that's something only a very kind man would do."

Looking more closely, he could see how tired and worn the appendages looked. The flaky skin terrified him. "Steve, no, you're not-" He forced himself to breathe as he was helped up, not sure why he was being led to the bathroom but allowing it nonetheless. The tentacles were still happily twirling at his arms slightly, and more mucus was added to his already-dripping hair. He could feel it seeping into Steve's too-tight pajamas, and it was a little more than uncomfortable. Still, he doubted Steve had two showers in the apartment, and he was more than willing to wait. He was used to cold showers from college anyhow. "I'm a kind man planning someone's murder, Steve. Just don't forget that."

"And I'm a man with a tan corolla, a perfectly manicure lawn, and a bunch of revolting, mortifying tentacles. We've both got hidden depths." He smiled kindly at him with his large, black eyes as he tugged him gently into the bathroom with him.


End file.
